A Glimpse Behind the Scenes
by Sailor Elysia
Summary: Serena tries something new in high school - technical theatre. She learns many new things about the backstage life - including feelings towards her stage manager and the heartache that comes with it. (based on a true story)
1.

Hello. My name is Serena, and I am a techie.  
  
What in the world is a 'techie,' you ask? Well, I'd be happy to tell you, that is, if you have the time. It's going to take a while to explain all the details, especially the parts where I might wander off track into my own experiences, so I would suggest you make yourself comfortable, perhaps get a snack or two, and prepare to transport yourself into the world that is not usually talked about in public--the world behind the scenes--the backstage.  
  
  
  
"A Glimpse Behind the Scenes"   
by Sailor Elysia  
  
  
"Scene One"  
  
  
I suppose I should start at the beginning, after all, that is the only place that makes the most sense.   
  
It all began during my junior year of high school. It was the time that everyone was registering for next year's classes. I couldn't believe it. I, Serena Tsukino, was finally going to be a senior.   
  
Moving the summer between my junior and senior years didn't help very much. I had to leave all my friends behind, and I had wanted to complete my three years at the same school, but my father's new job prevented that. I had to go to the new school to register during one of my regular school days, and it felt strange to be standing in a different school while I knew I should be attending class at another place across town.   
  
I glanced at the list of classes being offered. I wanted something new, something that would really interest me. A class that didn't require just sitting mindlessly in a desk all day listening to a teacher drone on and on about nothing.  
  
Oh, but where was I? Oh, yes, I was standing there, considering my options for the forthcoming year. Suddenly my eyes grasped a phrase at the bottom of the page that I hadn't seen before -- "Stage Production." This was new. . . I hadn't heard about this course before. What exactly was stage production, anyway? Did people learn how to build stages or something? What kind of a class was that to offer in high school?  
  
I started to go through the list again, but I kept going back to the bottom of the page. Something about that little phrase had captured my interest, more than I thought it would. What the hey, I'll give it a shot.   
  
Little did I know how much those words I uttered in my mind would change my life forever.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Today was the beginning of the rest of my life. After dreaming all through the torture known as junior high and my sophomore and junior years of high school, the big day had finally arrived. Senior year, here I come!  
  
I had totally forgotten about the classes I had chosen last spring, that is, until I looked at my schedule card. All the required classes were there, even though I was opposed to any form of class that required large amounts of homework. But there, at the bottom of the list, were those two little words that had struck a chord in my brain--stage production.  
  
I went through the first day in a blur--it was all so routine to me after nearly twelve years, all the rules, procedures and traditional disclaimers. Lunch was all right, but not really knowing anyone yet made me feel uncomfortable. That, and everyone kept staring at my hair. Hey, just because I wear my hair slightly different than everyone else was no cause to stare at me for a prolonged amount of time. I knew in time that I would make friends, but still I had an empty feeling sitting alone.  
  
Finally, the time came for me to find my stage production class. I walked down the long hallway at the north end of the school (it took me forever to find it!), and came to a large metal door with a sign posted above it. "Scene Shop." Well, this had to be it. I pulled the heavy door open with a creak, and slipped through before it had a chance to slam on my fingers.  
  
Immediately, the combined smells of freshly cut wood and paint fumes permeated the air, and left me light-headed for a moment. As I glanced around the large, empty room resembling a basement, silence greeted me. I could hear voices carrying through another large metal door, leading to what I assumed to be the stage itself.  
  
Cautiously, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, walked down the concrete steps, and through the entrance out onto the stage. What I saw out there was the last thing I had expected. A group of four people, all of them guys, talking about nothing in particular. Now, I had never been in this kind of situation where I was the minority; it had always been the other way around.  
  
I took another step closer to the group standing down center stage, trying to make as little noise as possible. Unfortunately, my shoe kicked a discarded screw across the floor, and its metallic sound echoed off the walls, as well as in every ear of the guys standing in the group.  
  
Four heads came up, and stared coldly in my direction. Never had I felt such a feeling of exclusion. It was if I was the enemy threatening to close in on their territory. What else could I do, but stare right back at them? I wasn't going to allow them to cast me off at first glance. I wanted them to give me a chance to prove I was just as good as them.  
  
One of them stepped forward, the tallest of them all, with a shock of black hair falling into his eyes, glancing down at a paper in his hand. "Serena, right?" I nodded. "My name's Darien, and I'm the stage manager this year. These are the other guys in the class. Tim," he said, pointing to a tall, lanky guy who looked more like an overgrown kid than a man; "Mike," average-looking with short blond hair and glasses, "and Adam." He was slightly larger than the rest. He reminded me of a football player, but his demeanor didn't suggest it. The one called Darien looked at his list again. "There'll be another girl in the class, a 'Lita' someone, but she won't be here till tomorrow."  
  
"Good to meet you guys," I finally blurted out. I was still slightly in shock, and couldn't get any other words past my lips. "So. . . Serena, is it? How much do you know about building sets?" I turned to one of the guys behind me--Adam. Yeah, that was it. I'd learn their names one of these days, considering it had only been five minutes since I was introduced to them. "And what's with the funky hairdo?" Tim snickered. I'd been teased many times about my hair; this wasn't anything new.  
  
"Um. . . sets? For what exactly?"  
  
"For musicals, plays, that sort of thing. Have you ever done anything in theatre before?"  
  
Theatre? So *that's* what this was all about. "Well, I was in a couple of plays at my old school, and I helped paint a few things, but other than that, not much," I admitted. I turned back to Tim. "And as for my hair, I like wearing it this way." I was in no mood to start another name-calling session. The kids at my old school were professionals at it by now.  
  
"Well, that's the whole reason for this class," Darien said, returning to the subject at hand. "We're here to learn and create the best-looking sets this school has ever seen. We'll start on the actual set for the upcoming musical tomorrow. Today, we're just taking a tour of the stage so we can get acquainted with the surroundings."  
  
I fell into step behind the rest of the group as we walked around the stage and its surrounding areas. I looked up towards the ceiling, and took in the sight of a mess of wires, metal poles, and black curtains suspended in the air. Just beyond that, I could faintly see grid-like supports at the very top of the stage. "What's all that for?" I said, pointing to all the stuff hanging above our heads.  
  
"That's the fly system. We'll go over that equipment later on. And as for the grid, I'm saving that trip for later. We'll be going up there near the end of the tour," came Darien's reply.  
  
Did he just say. . . up? I'm not afraid of heights or anything, but I've never fancied going more than six feet in the air. And he was talking about more than 60 feet! What had I gotten myself into?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
All right, all right, so it wasn't as bad as I thought. In fact, it was pretty fun.  
  
Tim, Mike, and Adam all went up before me, talking to each other, without a care in the world. I guess Darien could sense I had some misgivings about going up so high, so he started climbing the ladder after me, giving me reassurance most of the way. Slowly, my confidence (and my stomach) returned as we went higher and higher into the rafters. As I grasped the top rail of the ladder, Adam and Mike pulled me up onto the grid. It was dark, and smelled musty. Dust flew everywhere as I brushed off my jeans.   
  
"Watch out for the ground wires, I don't want any accidents on my hands," Darien called out. We stepped cautiously over the wires connected to the metal poles down below, and made our way over to the other side of the stage.  
  
I was the last one in line to make it over, and just as luck would have it, my foot found one of the hidden wires, and I fell forward. That is, until I fell into someone's arms. I looked up gratefully into a pair of shocking blue eyes. "You all right?" Darien asked, as he helped me back to my feet. I nodded. "Yeah, just a little klutz attack, that's all."  
  
The other three had already gone down the ladder by this time. "You know, this is just one of those places I would not want to get stuck in, especially in the dark," I commented, as I went down the ladder last, Darien below me, making sure I didn't have another klutzy moment. I could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, "the grid's not all that bad, once you get used to it. You won't have to come up here all that often anyway. Most of the work we do as a stage crew is on and backstage."  
  
When we got back down to the stage floor, Adam, Tim, and Mike all had their backpacks on, ready to leave. I grabbed my bag from the corner and slung it over my shoulder as well. "Today was fun, guys. Now you are all officially techies." Darien commented, as he put on his backpack.  
  
"Techies? What the heck is that?" I questioned.  
  
"It refers to us, the stage crew. You know, actors have all their different cliques, and so should the technical theatre people. So, we came up with 'techies'. Going up on the grid was our form of initiation," Mike responded, the first real words I had heard out of him all day.  
  
"Tomorrow we'll have the design for the musical, and we'll really get to work then. See you all tomorrow!" and the four of them went their separate ways. I stood there alone for a moment, really wondering what I had gotten myself into. Then I walked out the same door I had come through earlier, knowing that tomorrow would only bring more surprises.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
So much has happened since that first day. I've become better friends with the guys, and they even started to accept me into their little group.  
  
The other girl, Lita, showed up the second day, and we hit it off immediately. I guess with us being the only girls in the class, it formed an unspoken bond between us. She had a lot more knowledge in theatre than I did, and she taught me most of what she knew along the way. She always had some new creative lunch with her too, and never hesitated to give me a taste of what she had prepared that day.   
  
From my first impression of her she seemed to be one of those girls you didn't want to mess with, and the guys knew it from the start. Although I didn't know much about her personal life, I could tell she'd been through a lot of difficult situations by the way she reacted around different people.   
  
I've also learned a bunch of new terms relating to the art of technical theatre. Once I thought a 'scoop' referred to ice cream, but now I know it's a certain light used on stage. Also, a 'leg' is no longer a part of the body, but refers to the curtains on each side of the stage. Sometimes they're also called "wings." And now my right and left are no longer my right and left. They're the opposite when you're on stage. Confused yet? I know I was.  
  
But I digress. It was nearly two months to the day since I had first walked backstage, and now, we were almost ready to open the first musical of the school year, 'Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.' I hadn't heard of the musical before we started working on it, but to this day I'll never forget it.  
  
You must think that from my description, stage crew is all fun and games. Well, let me tell you right now, it isn't. Unless you think 6:00 am rehearsals and building sets until 10:00 at night for three weeks straight is fun, you've seriously got another think coming. Sure, we made it interesting, playing music during our building sessions; throwing candy across the stage to each other (and on the actors we didn't like!) during rehearsals when the director and actors weren't looking, but constant changes from the director, and being yelled at for mistakes we didn't make wasn't fun at all.  
  
The set for this musical consisted of quite a few parts, since they had to travel on and off stage often. The biggest of these was the two-story house unit, which required about ten people to get it moving and push it off stage left. That's how heavy it was.  
  
Before I go into any more details about the show, I should tell you about our dilemma with the floor crew, the ones responsible for moving the sets on and off stage. Usually, a good floor crew consists of ten to fifteen people. We had four techies, plus the occasional help of an actor or two. Lita and me were on stage right, while Adam and Darien were on stage left. Tim and Mike were running the lights and sound in the booth upstairs.  
  
We were severely limited when it came to moving the sets, and for some reason, the director thought it was our fault. I don't know where she got that idea. Still, we managed to pull it off, and we did a dang good job of it, too.  
  
This is the point in the story where I'm going to sidetrack a bit and go into a more personal matter, because I only feel it's fair to let you in on my little secret. If I didn't, you would be even more confused, if you aren't already. It'll make more sense as the story progresses.  
  
You see, during the course of preparing for the musical, we as a crew hung out together more than usual. We had to, because there was a lot of work to get done. Well, during one of our late night set-building sessions, Kim--one of the chorus members as well as a good friend of mine--and I were sitting on the stair unit before we put it back into the place where we stored it after each show. We were discussing various things about the musical, and somehow we got onto the topic of guys. Most of the actors were quite good-looking; no one could dispute that. As she got up and left, and I began to put the stair unit away, a voice on the other side of the stage distracted me momentarily. I immediately knew who the voice belonged to, so I looked up and over at Darien, watching him go over that evening's notes with the director.   
  
Okay, I know you're saying, "what's the big deal? It's kind of hard to ignore people who are talking loudly." And you're right. But not this time.   
  
When I glanced at Darien that night, it was if one of the stage lights was shining directly on him. I saw him differently than I ever had seen him before. I remembered all the times where he had smiled at me, and the way he said my name. And the time when he helped me up on the grid.  
  
All of this came together at one single moment, and processed a single thought in my brain. Kim had briefly brought up the fact how nice Darien was, not to mention he was pretty good-looking. I admitted as well, Darien *was* nice. But not just nice, he was dang gorgeous! Why hadn't I noticed it before? At first, I regarded him as a friend, a fellow techie. But all logic slipped past my mind as I continued to stare at him. I'm a girl, he's a guy. Hello, Serena, why have you been so blind?  
  
I didn't want to make it seem like I was openly staring at him, so I would glance at him out of the corner of my eye, taking in every sight of him that I could. What in the world was my heart doing? I had never ever felt this way about anyone before, not even about the guys at my old school. Every time I felt him near me, or he worked beside me, my blood would rush through my veins, and I could swear that my face was flushed with color the entire night.  
  
I did everything I could just to work near him to see if my feelings weren't just playing a trick on me. They weren't. I would hold the boards for him, get the hammer, or more screws if he asked for them. I was also careful to make sure he didn't notice my sudden change of behavior. At least, I don't think he noticed. Now that would have been a disaster!  
  
We said our usual good-byes, like we did every time we finished for the night. Even his 'goodbye' didn't sound like an ordinary goodbye to me anymore. His rich, deep voice echoed through my ears, and didn't leave until I had fallen asleep later that night.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Opening night was here. And we were ready for it. After a month of rehearsing, the four of us knew every cue, every spike mark that we could probably run through the show in our sleep. It was nearly impossible for something to go wrong.  
  
Funny how your words can come back to haunt you.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Granted, the audience never knew what was going on, and we were certainly lucky they couldn't see past the wings. Props got broken just before they were to go on stage, actors were fooling around with scenery, and once the lights came up too early, rushing Darien and Mike to set up their props, and then jumping through the kitchen window of the set to prevent from being seen by the audience.  
  
Of course, I didn't escape this production without a little mishap of my own. You see, I was in charge of running the porch unit on one side of the stage, then running it back when the scene was done. My moment in the spotlight, if you will, lasted less than a minute. But at least I got something done.  
  
Recently we had been having some problems with scenery catching on the wings and causing large rips in them because we had to move them across the stage so fast. So we started having someone hold the curtains back so we could push the sets through and back into the alcove.  
  
Anyway, back to performance night. My oh-so important part had just finished, and there I was, running the porch unit back to stage right as fast as I could, just like I had in previous rehearsals.  
  
What happened next was not my fault, and all I can say in my defense is that it was dark. The only thing on my mind was getting back to my side of the stage before the lights came up for the next scene. I could see the wing being held back so I could push the set through.  
  
Little did I know that the person holding back the wings was still in my way. I heard a distinct thud and immediately stopped pushing. I peeked around the corner, and to my horror, I saw Darien holding his head, eyes closed tightly, his face winced n pain.  
  
I had just smacked the stage manager (the very gorgeous-looking stage manager, I might add) directly in the head with a very heavy porch unit. Something tells me no one else could ever list *that* on their resume.  
  
For weeks I felt awful about it, even though no permanent damage had been done. He just kept on with his cheery, ever-helping, "can't help but *really* liking him" personality. And I certainly couldn't complain about that.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Intermission"  
  
The school year was passing by, much too quickly for my liking if you ask me. It was now the beginning of the second semester, which meant I had new classes.  
  
The best thing about this new schedule was that my favorite person in the entire world happened to be in my first period class. Yep, you guessed it. And even better, I sat right behind Darien. So, not only did I get to work with him backstage, I also got to know the back of his head quite well. You know, after I had already hit the front of his head, what more could I do to him? (Don't answer that.) What was even more ironic, was that Adam and Lita also had this same class in the morning. So, we all sat in the back corner of the room in what we affectionately dubbed the "techie" corner."  
  
Winter had fallen upon us by this point, and this year, it turned out be a heavier winter than usual. This caused problems. One morning, it snowed over three feet in a total of five hours, which was cause enough for the schools to close. But oh, no, the administration didn't listen, and made us, the poor, defenseless high-schoolers go to school anyway! Remember those stories your grandparents always told about the "walking uphill, both ways, barefoot in six feet of snow?" Well, chances are they weren't exaggerating.  
  
Anyway, I was a trooper, only because my mother dragged me out of bed, but that's beside the point. When I finally got to the school, I found that I was the first senior to arrive in my first class of the day. I had pulled myself out of a warm bed for *this?*  
  
Just then, I felt a cold breeze rush over me, and as the goosebumps tingled on my arms, I turned towards the door to see who had let the frigid air into the building, and who should I find standing there but the only person that could really make my day.  
  
"Darien! You made it!" I said loudly, perhaps a little too eagerly. He just flashed his gorgeous smile, and that was enough for me. Goosebumps immediately disappeared, replaced with a warm feeling slowly thawing any cold in my body I had felt earlier. I walked to the classroom beside him, while glancing in his direction slightly.  
  
He sat down in his usual desk, and I took the one behind him as always. No one else had shown up yet, and it didn't look like anyone was going to try to battle Mother Nature.  
  
We didn't really talk all that much during class time, only if the teacher was boring we would throw in our little smart-aleck comments now and then. It seemed to spice up the lesson for us, I guess. The best thing for me was if I could make Darien laugh with my added comments.  
  
We went our separate ways after first period, he to his Japanese class and me to my ever-boring interior design class. The day just seemed to lag on, probably because not many people had shown up for school and there wasn't anyone else to see.  
  
By the time sixth period had rolled around, it was just Darien, Adam, and me. No one else had bothered to show up. There was nothing for us to do, no plays or musicals to work on, the scene shop was even clean (which is a very rare thing, believe me) so they all decided to go over to Darien's to watch a movie or do something. I tagged along, for two reasons mainly, one, because I was just as bored as they were, and two, I jumped at the chance to go to Darien's house.  
  
When we got to his house, however, a slight problem confronted us. The driveway was buried under a huge snowdrift, and the only way for us to get near the house was for us to shovel through it. As they grabbed shovels out of the garden shed, Darien turned to me. "So what are you going to do?"  
  
"What do you mean?" I replied, somewhat puzzled.  
  
"While me and Adam shovel the driveway. What are you going to do?"  
  
I looked at him as if he was crazy. What did he think, that because I was female that I didn't know how to handle a shovel? Did he think that I was scared of breaking a nail or something? Didn't my being on crew prove *anything* to him? "I'm going to help you, of course. I'm just as good at shoveling as you are."  
  
He looked surprised for a moment, then grinned and handed me an extra pair of gloves, a headband to keep my ears warm, and another shovel.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Three hours later, only half of the driveway had been cleared. Maybe that was because we kept getting into snowball fights, but you can't be out in the snow without throwing it, now can you? I had no idea how much snow could weigh so much! Even when I helped my father with our own driveway, it didn't seem this bad. My back was starting to ache, and I couldn't even feel my toes, it was so cold.  
  
Darien threw another pile of snow off to the side, then leaned on his shovel, breathing heavily, his breath visible in the frosty air. "What do you guys say we take a break and get some hot chocolate?" Adam and I quickly agreed, and stuck our shovels in the snowdrift. Knowing me, I've never been one to pass up any kind of food!  
  
We trudged through the snow we had yet to clear away from the front steps, and walked inside. This was the first time I had ever been inside his house, and I took it all in quickly as he led us to the kitchen. He pulled out two chairs for us, and we sat in two large wooden chairs, while he grabbed the hot chocolate mix.   
  
Needless to say, the hot chocolate definitely warmed us up, enough to finish the rest of the driveway. Of course, we didn't resist the temptation of another snowball fight or two. Actually, most of the time, I stood and watched, laughing hysterically while Darien and Adam pushed each other into the huge piles of snow.   
  
Just being there warmed me up as much as the hot chocolate did. Just knowing he considered me a friend made me feel like I was on top on the world. And if Darien had pushed me into the snow, I wouldn't have cared.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I'm sure you're wondering by now what everything I've told you has to deal with stage crew. It has quite a bit, actually. These experiences only made my time on stage crew more memorable. Without them, I don't think I would've enjoyed it as much as I did.  
  
Anyway, back to the story. Winter wasn't the only problem we as a crew were dealing with at the moment. It was time for the annual play, and as usual, we weren't given a lot of time to consider and build a good set. What we did build all right, but it wasn't our best. In fact, we were so short on time that we finished painting the set five minutes before the house opened on opening night.  
  
The play chosen for that year, "The Curious Savage," was something about these people living in an insane asylum who really weren't crazy, only according to the world's viewpoint. It takes an elderly lady placed in the asylum by her money-hungry children to discover the inner beauty of these child-like people.   
  
Somehow I felt like this play was describing my life. I was surrounded by people who had amazing abilities, yet the world saw them for lazy people who liked to hang out backstage instead of working more. Oh, if they only knew. . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
I rolled over as the alarm clock blared loudly from across the room. 5:30 am. I groaned, and contemplated staying in bed for another hour. But my mind won the battle, reminding me why I had set the alarm so early in the first place.  
  
It was for one of those infamous early-morning, before school rehearsals slash quick tech run. We only had two weeks before the show opened, which was not a lot of time in theatre terms, and any extra time we could find was a big help. We still had not been able to please the director with our set ideas, so here we were, scrambling to create a realistic set in less than two weeks. And to top it all off, our play was being showcased at the annual state-wide theatre convention, which meant we had to throw together yet another *portable* set in less than a week. And you thought that theatre wasn't all that complicated.  
  
I jumped out of bed, threw on a sweater and jeans, and stumbled into the bathroom, washed my face enough to get rid of the sleepy-eyed look, then ran into the kitchen. It's amazing how much faster I get ready for school when I'm pressed for time.   
  
I made the twenty-minute walk to the school in about fifteen. If only I could do that every day. Walking around the back of the school, and finding the outer door to the scene shop propped open with a scrap of wood, I carefully pulled the door open, and peeked inside.   
  
The place was littered with odds and ends of wood scraps, paint cans and screws. It looked like a tornado had blown through, leaving no survivors. We were lucky to make it out of there each day without being handing a new chore to our already over-flowing list.  
  
"Hello?" I called, my words echoing off the cold cement walls. I heard a faint reply from the stage. At least someone else was here. I hated to work alone. I set my backpack down on the floor in our makeshift green room, and turned to go out on stage, when the body belonging to the voice I had heard earlier was suddenly standing in front of me.  
  
"Hi Serena," Darien replied, his usual smile on his face, the ball cap he always wore to the morning rehearsals shoved on his head. He walked over and sat down on a frame of the set that we had yet to assemble. I followed him, trying extremely hard not to make anything seem obvious. He commented on his new sweatshirt, I agreed that it looked really nice on him. Would you expect anything else from me? I wish I could remember what else we had talked about, if I had, would it have made any difference? I don't know. But I know I got to sit next to him, even for a short moment, and that was enough for me.   
  
Soon after, Tim showed up, followed by Adam and Mike. Lita hadn't been able to make it that morning, she had some prior commitment or other. Later she told me it was a commitment to sleep in longer. If she didn't feel like coming in the early morning, she wouldn't, and she didn't care what the guys thought.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The play was a success, and sadly, it was all over now. No more early morning or late night rehearsals, or skipping class to finish painting the set. [That's an entirely *different* story, one that I'll tell another time.] I'll always have the great memories and friendships, but never another senior year to relive like this one.  
  
By the end of February, we and the rest of the senior class (actually the entire school) became infected with a disease. Spring fever had set in, although we referred to it as 'senioritis'. It was that feeling you got when you were absolutely sick and tired of being in school every day. We didn't have any plays or even assemblies to worry about. And that, my friends, leave us techies more antsy than usual.   
  
It was also one of those times that a girl waits for her entire high school life. There are only a few other events that can surpass this time, and so far, I hadn't experienced any of them. So this one was especially important. I'd never have this chance again.  
  
Senior Prom.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
There was still a week before Prom, and I still had high hopes that I would be asked. There had to be at least one guy out there who was interested in me, and I kept hoping it would be the guy I wanted it to be. I even had my mother plan to make me a dress, because I couldn't find anything in the shops that I liked.  
  
For a few weeks now, I'd been having this recurring dream. It wasn't very long, but just long enough to make me constantly hope that it would come true. I was at the prom, in the beautiful dress I had imagined a thousand times, my hair perfect, dancing away with the guy of my dreams. And if you don't know who that is by now, I'd say you haven't been listening very carefully.  
  
What really happened? Practically the opposite. The first thing that went wrong was when the subject of prom came up at the end of the day, during one of our hour and a half class periods, where the entire backstage was spotless for once, and no shows were going on.   
  
There was silence for a moment, then Mike spoke up. "Hey, Darien, have you asked anyone to prom yet?" We all knew Mike had a huge crush on Lita, and he had asked her out just the other day. My ears perked up at the words 'Darien' and 'prom', and I glanced in his direction, then looked away again. Did I have even a remote chance?  
  
Darien looked uncomfortable, then tried to change the subject. "Um. . . not really, Mike. I hadn't thought much about it." Easy for him to say. Then there's me, who's only been dwelling on it for the past month.  
  
Adam joined in. "Aw, c'mon, Darien, I know you. There's got to be someone you'd like to take. What's holding you back?"  
  
Then to make things worse, Tim started throwing out names of girls they all knew that hadn't been asked. It was all I could to not stand up in front of Darien, and clue him in that I was practically dying for him to ask me. I probably should have. But, no, being the quiet one, I just sat there and watched the guys put him in the hot seat.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
There are no words to describe what I felt, but I will say that my once wonderful dream had turned into a nightmare.  
  
The day: Friday, the night of prom. And where was I, you wonder? That all depends on the time. I don't know what I was thinking, but I guess I was just trying to be nice. No one knew about my feelings for Darien, and he certainly didn't. I wasn't about to tell anyone, either. It was just too much to deal with.  
  
Have I lost you? I'm sorry, but it's still a little hard for me to think back on what happened. Oh, and if you're curious, no, I didn't go to prom. But I should explain something about that first.  
  
Friday afternoon, I decided to help Lita get ready for her date. It was as close as I would get to going, and I thought it would help me get my mind off the misery I was feeling. That, and I knew that she was grouping with Darien and his date. So I'd at least get another chance to see him. The guys had pressured him into asking some girl they knew from the play. In my opinion, she wasn't even pretty.  
  
I made my way over to Lita's apartment after school, with my camera in hand. I had agreed to help her with her hair, and take a few pictures too. When I got there, though, I found myself face-to-face with the girl who had shattered my dream. I kept my feelings to myself, though, and went about on my seemingly 'merry' way.  
  
To sum things up, Darien and Mike showed up a few hours later, looking *nothing* like the guys I worked with backstage. Tuxedos seem to transform a person remarkably, and I wished with all my heart that I had been the one standing next to Darien.  
  
I stayed in the shadows of the hallway until Lita motioned to me to take another picture. Darien finally noticed me then, and casually replied, "Hey, Serena," and flashed that gorgeous smile of his again. I plastered a smile on my face, and proceeded to take a couple of shots of the two couples, then watched them walk out the door. I waited a few minutes, then left the apartment as well.  
  
I cried myself to sleep that night.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The rest of the school year was winding down, and we had a few other productions we helped out with. One more big performance from the advanced drama class, their "Mini-Shakespearean" Festival, went over pretty well, considering it was outside, and we had to battle the forces of Mother Nature once more. One time it started raining just as it ended, and we had to hurry and pull down all the equipment before it got ruined.  
  
Other assemblies came and went, including the last big one put on by the student body officers. For the first time, I got to run follow-spot from the balcony, which was about as close as I got to running anything in lights. The only other thing I'll mention about that is it was the only time I had ever lost my voice. I'm not sure if the rest of the crew was rejoicing that I couldn't talk back or just laughing along with me because I sounded like a tortured frog.   
  
Finally, it was the week of graduation. Senioritis had set in so much by this time that many of the teachers didn't care if half the class didn't show up. We ate lunch outside once again, and drank in the sun's rays, the anticipation of the forthcoming summer on everyone's mind. Yearbook day was the same day as graduation, and it was a fun one, but it was also sad in a way, because I knew that I would never get another day like this.   
  
That morning it rained, spoiling the mood and our big plans for the afternoon. We scoured the halls of the high school, looking for anyone that was willing to sign our yearbooks. I hadn't seen Darien or any of the other techies all morning, and I was beginning to wonder if they had even come, seeing that the day was totally an option. I asked around, and finally found them backstage watching TV. I don't know why I hadn't looked there before, I guess I was just caught up in all the fun with all my other friends.  
  
I handed my book around the group of guys, and signed each of theirs in turn, writing something that was unique to each of them. When it came to Darien's, I wrote exactly what I was feeling, but I didn't make it seem too obvious. Maybe I should have; it might have made a difference. As they handed my book back to me, I opened it and scanned around for Darien's message, hoping he might've written something with a deeper meaning.   
  
Not a chance. It said, 'Crew was fun. Thanks for partying with us in crew, thanks for all the help, you will do well in life and have a good time, we graduate in 7 hours, cool huh? See ya tonight at graduation.'  
  
To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I appreciated the good wishes, but I had certainly been hoping for something--anything!--more from him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
It's been over a year since I last saw him. Even with the various times I've been with my other friends, I still never saw him, but I always asked. I didn't know how I would handle going away to college and being away. How would I react if I saw him again? I honestly didn't know. Would my feelings still be the same?  
  
I guess the question that looms in my mind the most is if he ever realized how much I wanted more than just a friendly co-worker, stage crew relationship. I wanted a real relationship with him more than anything in the world. I just didn't have the courage or the words to tell him.  
  
He was definitely my first major crush, and I know that's all it was. That's all it could have been, because the feelings I hid inside were never mutual. No wonder they call it a 'crush', because it literally does.  
  
Life will go on, but not without leaving a little bit of your heart behind.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
This fic copyright *me* October 1998, revised May 1999 and 2001; and all characters from Sailor Moon are not mine, you know who owns them, k? ^_~  



	2. Sequel—What Might Have Been

I had a couple of threats to make a sequel, so I thought about it... and thought about it... and thought about it... and finally decided I would try it. It won't be as long, and it probably not as good either, but that doesn't matter. Please tell me what you honestly think. If you haven't read "A Glimpse Behind the Scenes," I suggest you do that beforehand in order to prevent any confusion. ^_^  
  
Disclaimer: Sailormoon and all its respective characters belong to Takeuchi Naoko-sama, Kodansha, Toei, and DiC... hey, wait a minute... cross that last one off.... ^_~  
  
  
  
What Might Have Been  
a sequel to A Glimpse Behind the Scenes  
by Elysia [ely_chan@yahoo.com]  
  
  
  
  
Try not to think about   
What might have been   
Cause that was then   
And we have taken different roads   
There's no use giving in   
We can't go back again   
And we'll never know   
What might have been.  
  
  
  
  
...life will go on, but not without leaving a little bit of your heart behind...  
  
  
If I had only known how true those words would turn out to be, I would have penned them a long time ago. Even though it was nearly two years ago, I still remember everything like it happened yesterday.  
  
Only two months after graduating from high school, I started college. Yeah, I know, why in the world would I cut my summer short? Well, at first I didn't want to, but I was coerced into believing it would give me a head start. And it did in the end. But I was still against it, especially because it was so far away from home.  
  
But I went anyway, and ended up having a wonderful time in the process. Curse it all, my mother was always right, and she enjoyed it. Let me tell you, living away from home is a blast--except for the homework. College life would be perfect if it hadn't been for that.  
  
When the fall semester of my freshman year began, I immediately joined the stage crew again because I couldn't stay away from what I loved the most. And on a college level, it would be even better because we were allowed to do so many more things that we couldn't in high school.  
  
I loved every minute of that class held three times a week in the basement of the Performing Arts building. Every free moment I had that semester was spent around or on backstage. I'm sure the scene shop crew just *loved* having me around that much. Heh, it was really easy to annoy them.  
  
Oh, I have to tell you about the actual crew. Before it had been just Lita and me as the only girls on crew. I was in for another shock. This time, there were about 12 people in the class--and only two of them were guys. Big surprise, ne? We were back in the majority, and boy, did it feel good!  
  
When we took the tour around the stage, it actually took us to half the buildings on campus. This time, there were two different stages, numerous prop closets, costumes, you name it, they had it. I couldn't believe how much there was. Then we walked up to the catwalks and the grid, and that brought back the memory of the first time I went up on the grid.  
  
Talk about opening up a floodgate. For weeks after that, I couldn't think about anything that had to do with the stage without thinking about Darien. It's amazing how fresh his presence was in my mind, considering I hadn't seen him since the night me and Lita crashed their graduation party.  
  
Oh, did I forget to mention that little detail? Sorry, sometimes these things just slip right past me. Anyway, to make a long story short, Lita and I found out the other guys on the crew were having a party to celebrate graduation, but they forgot one little thing--us. Apparently the girl that was hanging around Darien (yep, you guessed it, the prom chick, or as we liked to call her, the crew wench) and her harpy friend didn't like me and Lita, and somehow convinced the guys to exclude us.  
  
But that didn't stop us. We went anyway, much to the disappointment of the two other girls. The look on their faces when we showed up unexpectedly was worth it, though. It was just too bad that she managed to monopolize all of Darien's time while we were there. Once I almost tickled his foot, but at the last moment, I couldn't bring myself to do it.   
  
********  
  
Anyway, back to the present. The plan was to put on two big shows during the semester, and I chose to work on the second one, a comedy called 'You Can't Take It With You.' This was yet another show I hadn't heard of, but since it was a comedy, I knew it would be fun.  
  
My job this time--along with one of the two guys from the class--was to be in charge of props. That sounded easy enough. But then we found out that the director wanted authentic objects, and suddenly that made our job a little harder. There weren't many places near the college to find antiques from the 1930's, but we did what we could. I remember one scene called for an erector set, and to our surprise, we found a real set from the thirties and joyfully showed it to our director. It's a very good thing when a director is pleased with a techie's work, trust me.  
  
Then one day, the director mentioned to us that some fireworks needed to be set off during the course of the play, and he needed someone to sit backstage and take care of it. Naturally, he offered the job to the guy first (that ticked me off) but when he turned it down, I eagerly raised my hand and the director reluctantly told me I could do it.  
  
Yes, you read that right. I was going to be the one to set off all the fireworks for all the performances. And I know what you're thinking. They were going to put gunpowder and matches into my hands and trust me with it? Hey, don't laugh so easily! Just because I'm sort of a klutz, doesn't mean I can't take my job seriously.   
  
Everything went fine during the rehearsal and performance runs. Nothing caught on fire (well, only once, but no damage was done...) and a few things fell off the walls a couple of times from the shock of the blasts. All in all, it was pretty successful.   
  
*******  
  
So much for pretending.   
  
After all that I had gone though to forget Darien and the memories of senior year, it all came flooding back every time I stepped backstage again. All I wanted was to move on with my life, to make new memories instead of dwelling on the old.  
  
When I went home for Thanksgiving, I hung out with my old group of friends the entire time--but I didn't see Darien once. He didn't hang out with our group, and I'm sure he had his own things to do during the break. Why couldn't I leave him behind?  
  
I went back to school, and tried to forget all over again. It was difficult when my roommates were asked out, went to formal dances, and got their first kisses while I sat in my room night after night. Homework wasn't enough to keep my mind from wandering, it only made it worse.  
  
One day I wrote an email to Andrew, casually asking him what had gone on those days before the prom. I admitted to him that I liked Darien, and Andrew, being the typical guy he was, said that he knew about it. That didn't shock me as much as the answer to my next question.   
  
I again asked Andrew about the details, specifically if Darien would have ever asked me to go with him. He wrote back saying that he asked Darien himself why he didn't ask me, and his reply was "I would never take someone like her."  
  
That revelation ripped through my heart. Whether or not those were really Darien's words, I now had an inkling of what the kid had ever felt for me. Nothing. And that hurt the most. I held the pain inside as long as I could, but it ate away at me, goading me and chipping away the precious little self-esteem I had left.  
  
Finally I poured everything out to my roommates, and I think they listened and understood. Even if they didn't, it helped to get it in the open. I felt better about myself after that, and I was able to concentrate on more important things.  
  
One night I couldn't sleep so I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about high school again. When I got to my memories of Darien, however, the heartache didn't come like it had before.   
  
The pain was gone.   
  
I never imagined how good it would feel, but as I laid there, it was like I had become a whole new person. Whether or not Darien knew of my feelings didn't seem to matter anymore. And I thought I could finally get on with my life.  
  
*******  
  
Finals and Winter break came and went, as well as the beginning of a new semester. I never liked change, and the biggest one of all was that I wasn't on stage crew anymore. I aced the class, and I couldn't take it over again, so I accepted the fact that I would now be an outsider. Some of the members of my class managed to get jobs in the theatre department, so I still had a few "connections."   
  
But it wasn't the same. Not going to the drama theatre every night for rehearsals and performances was a very strange feeling, and I'm sure my roommates found it weird to have me home every night at a reasonable hour. I stayed in my room most nights, reading or writing things but hardly ever talking. It was if my purpose for life had been taken away from me.  
  
So I filled up my nights with other things, namely finding out what my roommates were up to when I wasn't there. With the arrival of a brand new roommate and her interesting habits, the three of us who remained stuck together like never before.   
  
Second semester also brought another new feeling: homesickness. Before I had been so excited to get away from home, away from my overprotective parents, but now, all I wanted was to sleep in my very own bed, without the worries of homework and tests haunting me. But I still had two more months to go before that dream would be reality.  
  
I got another chance to go backstage again. When one of the lightboard operators couldn't make it to a performance night, she asked me to fill in for her. Running lights for 'The Secret Garden' was truly a memorable experience, and that wasn't just because I hadn't run lights before. Music can do funny things to a person, and this was no exception. Some nights I found myself almost crying because the music during the scene was so intense.   
  
It became a part of me.  
  
*******  
  
The last month of school was boring. My social life had always consisted of stage work, and with that gone, I had nothing to do. No one to keep me company like all my other roommates, no place to go, and no way to get there if I had.  
  
Then one day, I got a call from one of my friends, who just happened to also be the prop master. He begged (and I'm not exaggerating) for my help on the last play of the semester, because the new crew slacked off at the last minute. I couldn't say no to something like that! It was just what I needed to boost my spirits.  
  
Back to my second home, the dark corners of the drama stage. Yeah, sounds real inviting, I know, but once you've spent part of your life there, it becomes an addiction. You can't stay away.  
  
No fireworks this time (yeah, I was disappointed too) but I did get to run the fly system quite a bit. This was where we get the affectionate little term of 'Lord of the Flies.' It was a hard job, because I had to put all my weight and strength into pulling a ton of curtain up and down every act.   
  
Being behind the scenes again reminded why I did all this in the first place. When I was there, I could be whatever I wanted to be and no one would shun me for it. The way actors felt on stage was the way I felt backstage.   
  
I used to say that I would rather be running spotlight than be in it. And it was true in a way. My life was like a backstage; I became someone else with my own secrets to keep. Here I didn't have to worry about the outside world. It was so easy to leave all the pain behind.  
  
*******  
  
You're probably thinking, what happened to Darien after all this time? The truth is, I don't know. After my first year of college ended, I saw him once that summer, and some of those old feelings came flying back. But what came back so quickly left just as fast. Before I knew it, I went back to college and Darien went traveling abroad.   
  
That was two years ago, and somewhere deep in my heart, I still wonder if something could happen. He's coming home this summer, and I want to see him again. Not because I want something to happen between us, but because I want to make sure we're still friends. That means more to me than anything else in the world.  
  
I guess I'll never know what might have been. 


End file.
